


Bring It On

by Elenscaie (EroticAsphyxia)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambition, Fame, Ficlet, Gen, Pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:34:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28789566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EroticAsphyxia/pseuds/Elenscaie
Summary: Stardom is a status symbol and she wears it well.





	Bring It On

Stardom is a status symbol and she wears it well.

Her dress is airy and light and floats about her knees in layers of richest royal purple. It's elegant and refined, speaks of poise, of graceful things. She gathers her own grace as she steps out of the sleek black and plush red of the limo, as she steps into the firework frenzy of flashing lights.

The red carpet is a ribbon of ruin to those who thought her incapable of pursuing this path. They saw her as too soft and too sweet, too giving and too gentle. Not enough. Not strong enough, not sharp enough, not stubborn enough—simply _not enough_. The world of celebrity is a world of suspicion and speculation and sharp-eyed scrutiny. But she hasn't bowed down in defeat. She never will.

Each camera is a second set of eyes. Each flash going off is a blink and a memory filed away for further perusal. Here, only the sparkling silver stanchions bleeding twin twists of red velvet rope separate starlet from spectators. Sometimes she wonders what would happen if they weren't there. Would the crowd surge forward? Would it stay back for fear of security-detail retaliation?

Most of all, would she care?

Her first step falls firm, divot dug deep where heel hinges into welcoming red. Her heels aren't especially tall, but they seem as if talons, stabbing carpet in lieu of flesh.

Night air is a balm on her skin. It cocoons her. It weaves about her in notes of cool and clear, fresh and free, sings a sharp sting within her veins. She reckons she can feel the tease of its fingers at the choice curls left loose of her high bun. It's all strategy, designed to draw the eye, to attract, to accentuate. For all that she is hemmed in, she has a measure of calm. Of control. Everybody's watching, everybody's observing, inspecting, assessing.

Adoring.

Their attention is desire, and it is hers to shape. One thing fame has taught her is that manipulation can be salvation. If you have the mettle to meet your ends at the cost of others', then you have the mettle to meet anything. Of course, that means you don’t have to play by somebody else’s rules. Why would you, why should you, when you can make your own?

So she saunters and smiles and sets her gait at a hip-swivel. If it were any more pronounced, it would be a stalk. Or perhaps that's precisely what it is, and nobody realizes it, not even her.

_All things in moderation_ , she thinks. _That's a damn lie_. For with every camera dappling her in bright-blinding brilliance and with every greedy-grasping hand shoving a microphone toward her, her pride strengthens, her confidence rides higher. All of this because of her. _For her_. Her audience of hundreds here. Her audience of thousands gripped by the digital screen. Come one day, her audience will be greater, crowing and craving and countless. Her fans will be legion.

The next steps she takes are accompanied by a beatific smile, polished and pristine, as grandly gleaming as platinum. She raises a hand in generous greeting.

_Well, what am I waiting for?_

"I'm pretty grateful to be here. Thrilled, actually. I'm not lying when I say I was literally on the edge of my seat to arrive," and she allows for a silvery laugh at a joke so trite, refrains from rolling her eyes when it hits her that, yes, she really just said that.

In a sea of voices dialed up to just short of deafening, she coils close the night like a cloak, like a second skin, and it settles smoothly, easily. Smile perfectly in place, both hands spidering upon gossamer-floss skirt, she lets the chaos in.

_Bring it on._


End file.
